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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #slasher ghost #charmed ghost #final girl reader

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guillermosfamiliar · 3 months

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Henry Fox being a cutie-pie aka Try Not To Say Baby Challenge (IMPOSSIBLE)

#if grown man then why baby girl shaped?#chrissiewatts #usergay #usergayppl #rwrb-source #userveronika #userninz #have i finally learned how to make decent looking gifs?#idk man #red white and royal blue #henry fox mountchristen windsor #nicholas galitzine #myedit #not alex encroaching on this gifset...#fic: let’s see where we wake up tomorrow

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xoxoladyaz · 10 months

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You're My Heaven, Angel (Paramedic Steve x Rockstar Eddie) - Part 2

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (Coming Soon)

AN: I just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who has been so kind and so supportive of Part 1! I hear you and I, too, want to create a whole series based around this idea. It's a lot of pressure following-up something that's so beloved, but I'm going to give it my best!

Robin must secretly hate Steve.

She must be the most incredible actress in the entire world. She must be the most prolific conman that’s in the business of conman-ing people or whatever. She must have made a blood oath with an elder god during a full moon that no matter how many days or weeks or months or years it took, she would one day make Steve Harrington’s life absolutely miserable. There’s no other reasonable explanation for why she insists on taking the scenic route to Eddie’s room - a scenic route which adds on two additional minutes of travel time instead of heading straight down the hallway (which maybe adds forty seconds tops).

A route which means Steve has to bear two additional minutes of Eddie loudly introducing him to every single doctor, nurse, patient or family member that they come across on the way to his suite. Never mind that Steve’s worked with most of these doctors and nurses for years now, never mind that he actually goes to Sharla’s poker group when he has Thursdays off with the other fifty-something moms on staff (which Robin never ceases to find absolutely hilarious); no, Eddie is all smiles and arm flourishes, loudly – too loudly – proclaiming that they are now in the presence of his angel, his baby, his angel baby, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, his amor, his partner, his husband –

“Congratulations, Steve! I didn’t know you got married!” Sue laughs as the entire production passes by.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie blows her a noisy kiss before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath, and –

“I’M GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING - ”

“Robin, he’s singing again!”

“I know, dingus, I can hear him.”

“DING DONG, THE BELLS ARE GONNA CHIIIIIMMMEEEEEEEE - ”

Steve turns back, risking a glare at Robin mid-step. “Remind me why we’re going the long way around?”

Robin snorts out a laugh, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Come on, Stevie, we all need the exercise.”

“ – GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIMMMMMEEEE – Stevie? Stevie,” Eddie turns and sighs at Steve and okay, Steve can’t tell if Eddie’s eyes are super dilated because of the probable head trauma or if there’s a weird reflection from the fluorescents, but his eyes are, like, legit sparkling up at him. “Steeeeeevieeeee - ”

“Yep, I’m still here.” Eddie grins, flopping to the side so that their joined hands are resting up against his head. He sighs happily, his feet wiggling under the shock blanket, and it’s not cute Steve stop thinking it’s cute –

“Steve!” He pulls his eyes away just as the gurney comes to a stop in front of Brenda, one of the intake nurses currently on shift. Brenda’s blonde and cute and ethically non-monogamous, but Steve is more of a one and done sort of guy. That doesn’t mean they don’t flirt like crazy anytime they bump into each other, though. (Hey, he’s gotta stay in shape somehow.)

“Looking good today. Is that a new shirt?” She asks with a smirk, her eyes running over his biceps. (It’s not a new shirt, Robin just ran it through the dryer, so it shrunk. Really, he should have gotten rid of it, but it makes his biceps look amazing.)

“Nah, it’s - ”

He has a line. He has a great line. But as soon as he opens his mouth to speak it, he’s cut off by a very loud hissing sound coming from his left and –

Yep, it’s Eddie. Eddie, who’s glaring at Brenda like they’re mortal enemies. Seriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have laser eyes like that one superhero guy because if he did, Brenda would be at risk of getting too tan.

“MINE!” Eddie snaps at the end of his hiss and then, all while still maintaining eye contact with Brenda, he yanks Steve’s hand to his mouth and licks it. And not, like, a gentle lick that you’d get from a puppy. No, Eddie licks his hand like he’s trying to give Steve a tongue bath.

(His first instinct should be to pull away, but instead all Steve can think about it Eddie giving him an actual full body tongue bath - )

“Dude!” Steve exclaims when he does finally pull his hand away. (He hears Robin snort under her breath, clearly having caught onto the fact that his brain broke at the whole licking thing and shit, now he’s thinking about it again - )

“No, MINE!” Eddie growls, and Steve barely has a chance to wipe his hand on his pants before Eddie is grabbing it back, clutching it between both of his hands like it’s his special or something. (Special, was that the word that the guy used? The little creepy guy in that one movie? He needs to text Dustin and ask.)

“Aww, I’m glad to see you’ve finally met someone!” Brenda teases.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies distractedly, trying (and failing) to shake one of Eddie’s hands off of his hand because now that they’re actually at his suite, he’s going to need them. “Brenda, this is - ”

“The concussion patient from Lollapalooza, Sarah clued me in,” Brenda says, snapping her gum. “Eddie, right?”

Eddie pauses from wrestling with Steve to sniff at Brenda and honestly, as someone who spent way too much time at country clubs as a child because of his parents, Eddie has the whole I’m-better-than-you-you-poor-person-wearing-Adidas expression locked down. “That’s Mister Eddie to you, Briony.”

Briony? “Who’s Briony?”

Robin kicks the gurney forward with an eye roll and suddenly they’re moving into the suite. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dingus.”

Eddie finally manages to tear his eyes away from Brenda. He perks his head up at Steve and once Steve’s face is in his line of sight his expression softens, the sparkles coming back in full force. “And it’s such a pretty head, baby.”

Such a pretty head SUCH A PRETTY HEAD –

“I’ll show you – ow, Robin, seriously?” Steve yelps at Robin’s pinch.

“Stop being horny and help me get him on the bed.”

“I’m - ”

“Don’t listen to her baby, please, please stay horny, and lose the shirt while you’re at it!” Eddie sits up and starts frantically grasping at Steve’s sleeves. “Christ almighty, these arms, arms of heaven, arms of an angel - ”

“Steve!” Robin barks and shit, he needs to focus. He takes advantage of the fact that Eddie let go of his hand to grab at his shirt and darts down to the other end of the gurney. They lift on a count of three, placing Eddie onto the bed and kicking the wheeled cart out of the way. (Eddie makes a loud WHEEEEEEEEE sound and then immediately goes back to demanding that Steve get naked.) Sarah, who’s followed the procession the entire time, grabs the empty cart and wheels it out of the room just as Brenda steps in.

“Well then, Eddie, let’s get started on intake,” Brenda nods, bringing out her iPad. “Are you ready to answer a few questions?”

“No.”

Robin groans and steps to the side, energetically fluffing and reorganizing Eddie’s pillows so he’s seated up. Somehow Eddie is able to lean around Robin’s wide-armed movements and fix Brenda with yet another piercing glare.

Brenda shoots Steve a look before nodding her head at Eddie.

Right.

“Hey, uh, Eddie, we really need to ask you a few questions - ”

“Hand!” Eddie snaps to look at Steve and sticks his hand towards him. He wiggles his fingers a few times before making a grabby motion. “Hand!”

It’s not cute. It’s totally not cute.

Steve sighs but walks back around from the foot of the bed and places his hand gently in Eddie’s. Eddie links their fingers and squeezes tightly. “Uh, how about now, is now okay to ask a few questions?”

Huffing, Eddie looks at their fingers for a few moments before looking upwards at Steve. Their eyes meet and he grins. “Hi angel,” he lets out a pleased sigh. “I missed you.”

Don’t say it don’t say it DON’T SAY IT -

“I missed you too, Eds.”

FUCK.

“Awwwww, my little schmoopers are being all schmoopy-moopy!” Robin sings in her best baby voice. (That’s it, he’s eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.)

“I’m eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.”

“Uh, like fuck you are.”

“I'd rather have you eat me,” he hears Eddie whisper and yeah, okay, that’s one he’s just going to choose to ignore for the sake of what little sanity he has left.

“Right, okay,” he hears Brenda try to get things back on track. “About those intake questions - ”

“Oh, don’t worry Nurse Brenda,” the lilting voice of Dr. Suzie Henderson floats into the room. “I can take it from here.”

Steve turns just in time to see Suzie strut into the emergency suite. She shoots Brenda a grateful nod and Brenda, with one last wink to Steve, hands her iPad off to Suzie and heads out of the room.

“Bye Steve!”

“Bye Brenda.”

“Yeah, bye Brittany!”

Suzie has the best laugh in the world, and she lets it fly on her walk over. “Hey Steve,” Suzie grins at him as she makes her way towards the foot of Eddie’s bed. “How are things going today?”

“Oh, good,” Steve replies quickly before turning to look at Eddie. “Eddie, this is Doctor Suzie Henderson, she’s my sister-in-law.”

Eddie slowly scooches his butt backwards so he’s sitting up more. “No, she’s our sister-in-law,” he huffs before turning and smiling at Suzie. “Hey sis!”

“And you must be Eddie! I heard you were thinking about marrying into the family.” She lets out a quick giggle at those words but then clears her throat and throws her shoulders back. “Well, if you are serious about joining our Steve in holy – or unholy – matrimony - ”

“Fuck yeah,” he hears Eddie whisper.

“ – then I’m going to need you to answer a few questions.”

“Proceed, milady.” Eddie starts gently caressing Steve’s hand with his fingers. Steve shoots a look at Robin, who makes exaggeratedly sappy faces while glancing between Steve and their intertwined fingers.

(Forget the Chunky Monkey, he’s eating all of the ice cream they have left tonight.)

“Full name?”

“Edward Anthony Munson.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Name of your emergency contact?”

“Oh, that would be Uncle Wayne and Chrissy! Baby, you’re going to love Wayne,” Eddie says, turning to gaze lovingly up at Steve. “And he’s going to love you! Not as much as I love you though, that’s impossible.”

(Steve’s pretty sure that Bambi eyes here is the impossible one.)

“Great, is Wayne and Chrissy’s contact information in your medical file?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie replies dreamily, still gazing at Steve.

“Okay, speaking of your file,” Suzie taps at her iPad, “any major events in your medical history that we should know about?”

“Hmmm?”

He can feel it on his face, he can feel his stupid grin on his stupid face, but he chooses to instead focus on helping Eddie pay attention. “She wants to know if there’s major health events in your past that we need to know about, Bambi.”

“Bambi?”

“BAMBI?!” Robin squeaks after Eddie.

Shit shit SHIT -

“I mean - ”

“Bambi,” Eddie hums, blinking rapidly as he slumps back against his pillows. Once he's settled, he tosses his free hand across his forehead and moans happily. “He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, HE LOVES MEEEEEE - ”

Don’t blush DO NOT BLUSH BODY STOP BLUSHING

“Oh my god that was amazing, I have literally never seen you this red, you look like an actual tomato. Oh my god, I have to tell Nance, like, now.”

“Right, yes, okay Bambi,” Suzie interrupts with a snicker, “like Steve said, is there anything we need to know?”

“Well, we’re in love,” Eddie sighs, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Stevie’s hand. “I think I’m still a little high but it’s only weed, I’ve definitely stopped doing cocaine since, like, five months ago. No need to worry about that, angel,” Eddie pats the top of Steve’s hand.

“Yeah, no, I definitely won’t worry about that.” (He’s definitely going to worry about that.)

“Well, thank you for your honesty, Eddie. I’m going to take a closer look at your files once we get them just to get a better picture of your overall health before we run our tests. Now, second set of questions,” Suzie loudly taps and drags a new window on her tablet open. “What is your annual income?”

(Huh. That’s weird. Steve’s doesn't think he's ever heard any of the nurses ask that question before.)

Eddie snorts out a laugh. “God, I make so much money. A fucking stupid amount of money.”

“You have something in way of a retirement plan then?”

“Doc, I could retire for, like, the next five hundred million years.”

Susie hums as she makes a note. “Do you have anything against sharing resources with your romantic partner?”

(Okay, Steve definitely hasn't heard anyone else ask these questions before.)

“Nah!” Eddie scoffs before gently tugging on Steve’s hand to get his attention. “You’ll be the hottest trophy wife, babe. Do you have an apron? I’m going to buy you an apron.”

“And what are your feelings on children?”

“Kids? I love kids. Is he good with kids? I bet he’s good with kids,” Eddie rushes out. “Fuck, you’re going to look so hot pregnant, baby.”

Robin makes a loud barfing noise which Suzie naturally ignores. “What exactly are you looking for in a relationship?”

“Suzie - ”

“Him! My angel,” Eddie slumps to the side so he’s leaning up against Steve’s hip. “I want to wrap him up in a warm towel and keep him forever and make sweet, sweet love to him under the - ”

“OKAY, next question please,” Robin loudly cuts him off.

“So what you’re saying is you’re looking for a committed relationship with Steve,” Suzie ignores Robin's dramatics. “Are you prepared for lifelong monogamy?”

“Absolutely.”

“Suz - ”

“And you’ll work every day to be deserving of Steve?”

“For the rest of my life,” Eddie proclaims and fuck, he actually sounds serious. He actually looks serious too.

Huh.

Suzie quietly observes him for a moment before her face relaxes into a warm smile. “I believe you. Now, dealbreakers. What are your opinions on outdoor weddings? Steve gets scared in churches.”

“What?!” Eddie gasps, snapping back to Steve.

“SUZ – what, no, I’m not afraid of churches - ”

“Uh yeah you are, you said that every time you visit one you get nightmares about being sacrificed on an altar,” Robin chimes in.

“Gee, thanks, Robin.”

“Baby, baby, don’t worry, I’d never let them sacrifice you,” Eddie tries to comfort Steve, but everything that’s happened in the last thirty seconds – hell, the last thirty minutes – is starting to finally sink in and yeah, okay, there’s an obscenely hot and rich and famous rockstar telling Steve that he loves him and sure, he’s partially concussed but the joke isn’t ending, he’s acting like he’s serious and they’ve only exchanged like maybe twenty words total but he’s acting like this is actually happening and what if it actually could –

“Shoot, we’re going to have to wrap it up here, loverboy,” Robin waylays his runaway thoughts as her beeper goes off. “We’ve got a fainter with a broken nose."

“Okay, okay.” Steve shakes his head and tries to gently extract his hand from Eddie’s grasp but Eddie lurches at the feeling of Steve moving his hands and whines, digging his finger into Steve’s hand.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

“But – no, angel, please,” he blubbers before turning his eyes on Steve and –

Oh.

Oh no.

They’re even bigger and shinier when he’s crying.

“I’m sorry, Bambi,” he replies totally deliberately, “but I’ve got to go finish my shift. I’ll come back when I’m done, okay?”

Eddie sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” he whimpers sadly, and – look, this joke isn't really joking anymore so if Eddie's gonna go all the way, he might as well go all the way too.

He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. “Be good for Suzie, okay?” As he draws back, he glances back down at Eddie. Eddie is blinking dazedly at Steve, all glassy-eyed and rosy.

“Wow,” Eddie whispers, and while the smile that appears on his face is small, it’s the warmest one Steve has seen yet. “Whatever you say, baby.”

“Right, right.” Steve nods and then pivots, making a hasty retreat out of the room.

“Later, Bambi,” Robin sings behind him, and then she’s quick on Steve’s heels. The hall’s crowded, though, so they aren’t fast enough to escape the start of Suzie and Eddie’s conversation.

(“So, outdoor wedding? Maybe in spring?”

“Can it be in Hobbiton?”

“Uh, it better be in Hobbiton!”)

“I’m kinda surprised to see you staking your claim already, dingus,” Robin says, thrusting the portable gurney mat into Steve’s arms as they walk. “I was worried I’d have to make you.”

“I shouldn't have done that. I mean, he’s a patient, Robin!”

“Not anymore, he’s not!” Robin gently bumps his hip. “He's not your patient anymore so now we need to start planning your next move. I mean, he’s obviously going to say yes when you ask him out, but it still needs to be smooth.”

“What – I’m Steve Harrington, I’m always smooth.”

Robin is purposely silent.

“Okay, first of all, rude,” he says after giving her plenty of time to politely agree. “Second of all, even if I did decide to make a move, there actually isn’t a guarantee he’d say yes. Even if he wasn't just doing this because he's heavily concussed, I’ve hardly talked to the guy!”

“I know, he has no idea how much of a dork you are, it’s great.”

Steve offers Robin a hand as he climbs into the ambulance. (Not without shooting her a look once they're both seated, of course because again, rude.)

Robin shrugs Steve's frown off. “Look, dingus, I know you think that you have all these great lines or whatever - ”

“Uh, I don’t think, I do have them - ”

“ – but they’re, like, obviously lines. Whatever you say to him has to be more real. He needs to know that if he says yes, he’s going to be going on a date with a guy that has the ooiest, gooiest, squishiest little itty bitty heart!” She squeezes her hands together like she’s holding Steve’s heart in her hands (which definitely isn’t concerning given the fact that she’s technically a medical professional who knows just how vulnerable that particular organ is.)

“Robs - ”

“ITTY BITTY!” She kisses the tips of her fingers. “And that’s why we gotta plan, doinkus. Edward Anthony Munson needs to be constantly conscious of the fact that he’s dating the best guy on the entire planet because you are, Steve, you are the best guy on Earth and you deserve a Prince Charming even though the Prince Charming archetype is totally outdated and part of a patriarchal initiative to establish systematic gender dynamics - ”

Well, shucks. Maybe Robin doesn’t hate him after all.

“ - doesn't exist, its still what you deserve. But more importantly than that, if Eddie does start dating you, then I have a better shot of getting him to introduce me to Chris Hemsworth.”

“Chris Hemsworth?"

“Uh, yeah.”

"Chris Hemsworth - Chris Hemsworth? Out of every famous person Eddie could hypothetically introduce you to, you'd want to meet Chris Hemsworth?"

"Well, yeah," Robin takes a brief sip of her water before shooting Steve a playful smirk. “I mean, as great as you are, I wouldn't be opposed to upgrading my emotional support himbo.”

Never mind, she’s evil incarnate.

(And she’s going to be out of Chunky Monkey in about five hours.)

Tags list: @piratefishmama @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @noxturnallyevermore @little-trash-ghost @justforthedead89 @mmmmwaffles94 @omletlove @lostonceandneverfound @sweetwaterangel @punctualhowell @sapphirecobalt-1 @kedtheduck @lunesispunk @mrs-dr-reid @clockworkballerina @stayonmars @maya-custodios-dionach @kahri1 @renaissan-vvitch @xwildangel @sweetarts116 @musical-theatre-gay @ladylokilaufeyson5 @ellietheasexylibrarian @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @designatedgrape @steddiesoulmates @starlightshadowsworld @inmoonywetrust @hellfire--cult @singmeyoursimpsong @sleepdeprivedflower @loserhotline @m-owo-n @magpiemuseum

#it's me I'm the girl who fainted and broke her nose at work #I told the doctor hey at least I've finally broken a bone and he said it didn't count #which is honestly super rude so fuck you doctor jones #anyways #steddie #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie fic #paramedic Steve harrington #rock star Eddie munson #yes Eddie knows my fair lady #Steve forgetting both Superman and Gollum #trigger warning: brenda #also I took a weed hard candy while I wrote this so if the grammar is weird whoopsie I'll fix it later #Chris Hemsworth is for the lesbians

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phosphorus-noodles · 1 year

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shhhh he's gotta focus.

(bonus under cut!)

SIKE it was from a demon!shane fic i am cringe but i am free and this stupid oneshot lives in my head rent free now it won't leave 😔

#uhh how should I tag this-#final girl ryan #good start.#wearewatcher #watcher #ryan bergara #shane madej #puppet history #ghost files #demon shane #for the bonus lol #shyan #??? cuz it was in the fic?#idk man I'm a mess but silly tumblr doodle pog #pho.doodles #1k #pho.posts

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dmercer91 · 2 months

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pretty girl, me94

in which mark has a little bit of an unwarranted jealousy problem you help him get over. (18+!!)

part of the sophomores best girl mini series! also set in last season, a couple days after mackie's fic (2.6k)

she’s long awaited, she’s hot, and she’s not proofread!! (typical). i hope she lived up to the excitement, i love you all, i need to pack and i need to go tf to sleep

jealousmarkjealousmarkjealousmarkjealousmarksdhsjdhsdjdh

to the public you were mark's. it made the most sense- he'd probably be around until his graduation, at which point the arrangement you had with the sophomore's would probably be over- but it would still prevent people begging the question of why you hadn't followed any of the other's to their respective draft cities despite the lack of any 'breakup'

he was touchier with you than the rest, as well. so being his 'girlfriend' had allowed for that to translate well when the group of you were out, for him to stay mindless about his fingers twirling the ends of your hair and his palm having a home on your thigh.

to top it all off- it was so embarrassingly evident that, although he liked sharing you in general, sometimes his mind went to places it shouldn't, and sometimes sharing was the last thing he wanted when it came to you.

so at a party where you and mackie had been stuck to one another like glue, partnering in beer pong, sharing a cup when nobody was paying attention, passing fleeting touches once everybody was too far gone to notice, mark could only sulk.

the biggest downside of being your so called boyfriend was that, no matter how badly he wanted to leave, it would look a little wrong for him to ditch his love at a frat house with absolutely no warning.

so he pulled you aside, your giggles stinging a little as you fell into his chest, looking up at him in the dim lighting like he was something of a god, whisking you to heaven, or, in this case, the entrance hallway of the most trashed building possibly ever

"it's time to go home now, baby," he murmured, wrapping you in his jacket, knowing you refused to bring any warm one, arguing it ruined your outfit.

you pouted, clutching the hem of his shirt and trying to pull him back to where some of the hockey team had stationed themselves

"but i'm having fun, marky," your genuine displeasure at his words had his jaw ticking, shaking his head at you.

"is that how this works now? you bossin' me around, baby?" he tilted his head and the look in his eyes made your mouth water. you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, shook your head and watched in real time as his face got more laxed, his body getting closer to yours.

he gave you a lazy grin, pressing a kiss to your lips and leading you out the door.

"we're gonna go home n' you're gonna be good, yeah?" he whispered, earning a nod as you tried to lean in for more kisses. he hummed, accepting the gesture but quickly pulling back to get you onto the sidewalk and towards the house.

you pawed at his arm, an attempt to get his attention back on you. he quickly eyed you before deciding to lean into his jealousy, see if you caught on and see what you'd do about it.

"look who's just gettin' all the attention from anyone who'll spare it tonight, huh?" you blushed, shaking your head timidly

you stepped in front of him so he’d stop walking, only for him to lift you into his arms and continue on without a thought

you giggled, tucking your face into his neck. "just want your attention, marky," you gave him a sultry look, watching as his tongue poked the bottom of his cheek in frustrated contemplation

"don't seem to want any of me when mackie's around," he stated, feeling your nails scratch at his bicep absentmindedly.

now that you thought about it, you were starting a little bit of a pattern. you'd be caught up in marks lap, giggling at everything he said and being the perfect, attentive girlfriend. then, mackie would come into a conversation and you'd be entirely distracted.

the first time, his food had come to the door and you never bothered to come back to mark after bringing it upstairs. tonight, he asked for you to partner him in games and you spent the whole night looking at mackie the way mark felt he deserved instead.

"then you're always runnin' around the house in luke's clothes, snuggling up with him on movie nights, sleeping in his bed," he continued, despite your lips on his jaw and neck, nipping at his skin

luke always preferred softer affection from you to cheer him up unless he was particularly angry- which meant him dragging you into his lap and hugging onto you, giving you his clothes so they'd smell like your perfume and having you fall asleep on his chest.

"best of all, ethan's been taking you out to lunch dates when you're meant to be my girl, not his," he walked through the front door just as you were about to explain to him that he seemed afraid to be affectionate with you other than to sleep with you or touch you, and that's why you kept getting whisked away.

the other boys had found a nice middle ground of relief and relationship, and you never denied any of them what they'd asked of you- mark had been stuck on relief, and always seemed to try and catch you when the rest had already whisked you away.

"m' not tryin' to pick favourites, i promise, marky. wanna have a thing with you, too. i don't know what you'd like, though," he grumbled, like your explanation hadn't quite met his standards for an excuse

"right now?" he dropped you on his bed, peeled his shirt off. "i'd like to fuck you,"

you giggled, pulling him down on top of you and tugging at his hair, kissing him and letting him tug your shorts off. his hands slid down your waist and hips to find your panties, only to feel that you'd gone without.

he groaned into your mouth and you smiled. one hand abandoning his hair to scratch down his back.

he moved off you, earning a needy whine and your arms reaching out at him. he smirked, sitting at the edge of his bed and nodding for you to come over to him while he ditched his pants and boxers

your response was to start kneeling in front of him, only for him to shake his head. "on my lap, pretty baby," he gripped your waist, pulling you onto his thigh, pressed tight to his chest.

"think m' gonna make you work for it," he smiled, looking in front of you at the full length mirror, watching as you stared at the two of you. you licked your lips slightly, watching the way he was holding you.

"what?" you murmured, finally looking into his eyes, a little distracted by his hands and the way you looked.

he chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

"said i'm gonna make you work for it, baby." his hands moved to your hips, teasing for a second before he lifted you forward and then dragged you back, bare cunt dragging on the muscle of his thigh and making your legs clench together

he gave you an expectant look through the mirror, watching with a smirk as you slowly rocked forward, a shaky whine spilling from your lips when his leg tensed under you

your hand planted on his other leg, nails digging into his skin as you rocked yourself as well as you could manage, a sticky mess building on his leg from your arousal

"the boys and i.. we talk about you, you know?.." he trailed, leaving kisses on your shoulder while you moaned at the though of them talking about the things they'd all done with you.

"and none of them can shut up about how well you respond.. when they tell you how good you are for them," your core pulsed, hips stuttering in your pace.

you weren't quite sure where he was going with his rant, which side of the coin he'd choose.

"is that true, pretty girl? you like it when they pretend you're this perfect angel, like you're not the prettiest little slut for us?" your eyes fluttered closed, and reopened to look into his own.

both. he was choosing both sides of the coin.

"mark, mark-" your grip on his leg tightened and he hummed, serving as a repetition to his question and not an acknowledgement of how close you were, nor your whimpers of his name.

"answer me," he murmured, bringing a hand in front of you and making light circles over your clit.

"m' a good girl. good for you, always. s' not- ah, not pretend" you breathed out, leaning your head back on his chest and looking up at him from there, rather than in the mirror

"please," you gasped, and you didn't even know yourself whether you were pleading with him to confirm you were good for him, or just to let you cum. though, one would probably result in the other.

"oh, look at you.. you do like it, don't you?" he teased, and you nodded obediently, peering up at him with all the hope you could muster.

though apparently your hope was for nothing, cause he moved his fingers away from your clit and grabbed your hips roughly, stopping your movement and effectively pressing pause on any stimulation you'd been feeling.

"no, no- was so close," you whispered, tears collecting at your waterline and both of your hands trying to pry marks off your body so you could go back to fucking yourself on him.

"shhh, pretty baby. m' gonna take my hands away and you're gonna sit nice and still, yeah? don't be a fucking brat, now," his voice was low and stern, your core throbbing against him and earning a chuckle

he hummed in satisfaction when you halted your attempts at forcing his hand, and you watched patiently as his forearm slayed over your stomach and he lifted your whole body with a one handed grip on your waist.

using his other hand, he aligned himself under you, pulling you down onto his cock and dropping you so that he immediately bottomed out.

you squealed, squeezing him so hard that he grunted and pried your thighs apart, slapping the inside of one hard enough for you to come back to yourself and try and relax your pelvis.

you gulped when you finally got used to the sudden intrusion, eyes fluttering shut and hips rocking gently.

he gripped your jaw, eyes jolting open as he forced you to look into the mirror in front of you.

"i told you to sit still" he barked, and you were smart enough to will away every aching desire to squirm.

since the last time you'd acknowledged yourself, you found that the lust drunk bliss on your face had increased tenfold and that you were now dripping down your thighs and onto marks, despite the two no longer rubbing against one another.

you also found that mark was staring, as well. drinking in every inch of exposed skin and massaging at your thighs when his eyes spent far too long focused between them, eyeing the way he was pressed into you and how stuffed you looked.

his arm made it's way back over your stomach, fingers gently grazing the imprint he was leaving on your stomach on their way across to your waist.

his voice was deep and crisp in your ear when he started to fuck up into you, one hand pulling you up, slamming you back down, and the other placing your thighs over his knees so they'd stay spread while he moved to paw at your tits, pinch your nipples.

"have you ever let any of us come inside?" and he sounded so calm that it hurt your head, confusion and fear melting together into a look that you gave him through the glass of his mirror.

".. s' against the rules," was all you said, shaky and wanting so desperately to grip onto him but wanting to be well behaved far more, so choosing to stay as he put you.

"that's not what i asked, pretty baby. i asked if you've let anyone," his fingers stopped messing with your nipple, instead his whole palm enveloped your left breast and the lines of his hand soaked in the scattered beat of your heart.

"no," you whispered, and it couldn't have been a more evident lie even if he hadn't felt the skip in the rhythm beating through your chest. he slammed up into you particularly roughly and you struggled not to scream, your eyes fluttering and tears dripping down your cheeks.

"no?" he asked again, his condescending tone ringing in your ears. if only you'd known he knew before his question even fell from his lips, you would've apologized rather than lying.

"so.. what was it, that you were begging mack to do the other night? promisin' him you wouldn't tell, saying you'd been so good," he tilted his head, the hand over your heart sneaking up around your throat, keeping your head straight so you'd look him in the eye.

"nothin'.. nothing, mark, i swear. just know he likes me talking, beggin'.. wanted to be good t' him," you cried, and he let out a dry chuckle.

"good girls don't lie.. n' i thought that's all you wanted, was for me to validate that little fantasy in your head where you're obedient, and sweet, and the best girl, and then.. you lie to me? m' starting to think the boys are liars, too. tellin' me you're this angel baby.." he trailed off, tutting breathily.

"if you're a good girl, you'll make it up to me, right, pretty baby?" he asked, coming up with his very own resolution for the problem he'd stuck you in.

"i'll- m' gonna make it up to you, swear it," your lead lolled back onto his shoulder from how dazed you were and he quickly perched your head right back up.

"gonna let me come inside? need to- i need it. need to know what it feels like to fill you up, baby," he squeezed your throat a little, your walls clenching around him and your eyes flickering between open and closed. you'd never been so loud, so twitchy for him and he was loving every last second.

you nodded, almost frantically, staring at where you and mark connected in the mirror while he hummed in satisfaction and gave you one last, rough thrust, leaking into you and dropping his hand from your neck, squeezing every inch of skin he could reach and moaning gently in your ear.

"there's a good girl. prettiest fucking whore f' me," he murmured, smiling blissfully when your legs made their way over his knees, clamping together while your walls pulsated around him.

you squeezed your eyes shut hard and clawed at his arm, shaking against his chest and moans spilling violently from red, swollen lips.

you heaved in his arms, chest rising and falling prominently while he used light circles on your clit to bring you down from an intense orgasm.

his hands slid to your hips, ready to pull you off him and you whined in retaliation, turning to nestle your face into his chest.

he smirked, keeping you taught to himself while he laid back, keeping you in top of him and petting your hair out of your face.

"mh. was always so annoying you never wanted cuddles, so warm, big," you babbled, clinging on tighter.

"always wanted cuddles, pretty baby. didn't know how to ask for 'em."

"kay, well. you're an idiot," he raised an eyebrow, adjusting his hips and earning an oversensitive whine

"watch yourself"

#e’s fics #e goes a little feral #best girl mini series !#mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #fINALLY MAN #sry im slow thank you for waiting on me

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catharusustulatus · 5 months

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Better jobs for Steve than being a cop: teacher, counselor, bartender, florist, librarian assistant, garden section associate, dog walker (dog groomer canon?), grocery store manager, food pantry helper, seasonal worker as a Santa’s elf….

#stranger things #steve harrington #I could go on and on #I technically understand why so many fics make him a cop or one of Hopper’s deputies #as in he is a protector and they think it fits his narrative #but I truly believe he would be not only anti authority but also very zany like other girls #and go for something else #also acab ya know #steve harrington hc #my favorite job for him is he gets a job as a counselor at the state college he goes to when he finally joins Robin in Chicago #and he’s a young himbo with a corner office who helps wayward kids

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banjjakz · 4 months

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final girl: jjk visualkei idol!au x stan!f!reader

author's note: this is a choose-your-own-adventure PWP series. each route will have its own host of chapter-specific warnings, but some general content advisories include: obsession, stalking, elements of horror, codependent/unhealthy relationships, imbalanced power dynamics, erotic descriptions of death, etc etc please see: main menu for navigation & guide for recommended route order. enjoy ~ ^^

> main menu > guide

[PROLOGUE]

➡ GAME START

The time: three o’clock in the morning. The place: one of Kabukichou’s countless dilapidated venues. The weather: piercingly frigid, biting cold which mercilessly impales your already tumultuous gut. Those in attendance: approximately three hundred other dedicated fans, and – of course – the main act:

Shinjuku Showdown.

As an underground idol group, ShinShow makes no effort to conform to some false overly polished, perfectly airbrushed boy-group image. What sets them apart from the rest of the underground crowd is their steadfast dedication to their unique concept: jujutsu sorcery.

Allegedly, all members of ShinShow are reincarnated sorcerers from various eras in Japanese history, reborn to entrance thousands with the preternatural capabilities of their musical talent. In this lifetime, they manipulate the cosmos not with mudras, but with peerless performances.

Many so-called stans claim to know their lore inside out; you, however, pride yourself on being a part of the slim majority of the fanbase who has walked with the members since the beginning. You were a fan of each individual member while they were preoccupied in other idol activities before eventually joining together to create ShinShow. This, you are convinced, sets you apart from the swathe of fresh blood clogging up the congested standing pit. Everyone loiters in one single cesspool of quivering, fanatic anticipation. You bet many others feel like prey, yearning to be caught in the captivating gaze of their preferred member. But you’re different. You aren’t prey.

After years of unwavering support including (but certainly not limited to): countless hours spent digitally streaming; months’ worth of paychecks devoted to VVVVVVVVIP Access Packages, pre-releases, physical albums, official merch; and premium music subscription services, you consider yourself the exact opposite of a creature lying in wait, ready to be devoured.

No, you are the one who does the devouring.

Consuming ShinShow content is the closest you have ever come in your miserable life to satiating the empty void weighing you down, siphoning the sleep out of your nights, rendering your few non-work-related phone calls devoid of any real meaning.

Walking with ShinShow has brought you to a new, enlightened state of being. You are cleansed anew each time you have the privilege of breathing in the same atmosphere into which they perspire, passionately entangled in the performance of their morose melodies. Screaming fan chants until your throat bleeds and pricking yourself with arts and crafts supplies in the effort to make your own cheering uchiwa are essential sources from which you derive a tenuous – but nonetheless persistent – will to live.

Supporting ShinShow has become a devotional act. And you are, if nothing else, devout.

Up above head, the house lights are snuffed into nonexistence. An impenetrable darkness asphyxiates all sense of vision and a charged murmur sweeps through the venue. Excitement runs rampant like an epidemic, spreading from phone charm to deco’d polaroid holder to custom-made fan slogan.

It’s time.

As always, you hear them before you see them: the isolated, mournful wailing of an electric guitar echoes throughout the atmosphere, seemingly pulling a shroud over the crowd and commandeering the entirety of your attention to the mysteriously black stage. Soon to follow are the crashing of symbols, the striking of drums, the unnerving thrum of that otherworldly bassline, and last, but certainly not least, the main vocal’s banshee-like shriek.

The show is absolutely charged with some sort of intoxicating misery. This is why you love them above all others – the unique, dreadful energy that pools wherever ShinShow performs is a testament to their unmatched skills as entertainers.

Even in the midst of a taxing live show, there is not a crack in the façade, not a chink in the armor. The drummer, despite pounding away with reckless abandon, displays an unshakable poker face of utter apathy, which would be made somewhat less terrifying if he didn’t have on his usual corpse paint: a white face, powdered and even like a geisha, bisected at the middle with a harsh black line cutting neatly from cheekbone to cheekbone. Even when shouting some of the raunchier, more aggrieved lyrics, his black-painted lips curl rather cutely around the vulgar vowels.

Just as dedicated to his craft, the bassist plucks out morose notes with limp hands and cold eyes, moving his body as a medical examiner might manipulate a cadaver’s stiff limbs. He’s got lanky, black hair with parted bangs brushing his impossibly long, doll-like lashes. Despite his pretty looks, he appears ultimately ghoulish, with a wan complexion, sunken cheekbones, and lips perpetually bitten raw. This is not to say he doesn’t get excited while performing – because he absolutely does! But when he moves, it is with a disconcerting preternatural speed. Is it truly the adrenaline rush of a live performance that moves him? Or does something else entirely occupy his svelte, hollow carcass?

Not to be outdone, the lead singer inspires as much awe as he does fear in the hearts of his catatonic, reverential fans. In stark contrast to his easygoing off-stage countenance, his on-stage persona lets his hair loose. Literally. A smooth, unbroken cascade of obsidian drapes his well-toned form from the crown of his head to the small of his back. Many of his female fans are envious of his well-maintained locks, and rant about this very grievance in pages and pages of obsessive online ramblings. With tastefully gauged lobes, a spear of shocking silver speared through his tongue, and swirls of ink lining the ribbed midsection of his throat, the band’s front man is an unapologetically alternative heartthrob. When he sings, it sounds like he’s trying to resurrect something long dead and gone through sheer force of will. How anything alive or otherwise could resist his siren’s call is an eternal mystery.

And last, but certainly not least, there is the guitarist, who stands a full head taller than the rest of his bandmates and at least twice as wide. What he lacks in the conventionally attractive, youthful bishounen image of most male idols, he makes up for with a physique gifted from above (or below?) itself. His muscles ripple, glistening with sweat and the remnants of many upended water bottles, as he shreds his strings and whips his unruly pink hair in all-consuming, passionate fervor. Out of all the members, he must be the most unapproachable – after all, his concept is that he’s an epochs-old evil curse who used to eat women and children for fun! If it weren’t for his washboard abs and de facto stage outfits of open-faced robes and shredded T-shirts, you wonder how many fans he would have left to claim.

Before you know it, the performance draws to a close just as suddenly as it had spontaneously combusted into existence! During the final speaking mention, one of the members wields some lethal fan-service: some fan had thrown a pair of fox ears onto the stage. When he decided to not only put them on, but to pose with cute foxlike mannerisms, the gap moe is too much for the audience to handle. The crowd surges forward, and with a complete lack of any kind of barrier or barricade (this is Kabukichou, after all) you are sent flying into the alarmingly solid, wide, warm chest of the imposing security guard. He looks down at you from the tall bridge of his nose, wordlessly impassive save for the slight quirk of amusement that twists his scarred lips. Beefy arms stabilize you, dispelling your disorientation. Each of his large hands respectively span nearly the entire width of your upper arm. Wow. Sure, he looks well into his forties, but you think he could definitely have a shot as some niche-market idol. He’s even got dark fringe and a sharp jawline! The wrinkles aren’t too bad, either…. if you squint, he’s kinda…

Ahh, you have to pull yourself together! Making goo-goo eyes at this random stranger will ruin your chances at catching the encore. Hurriedly, you (not so) politely squirm your way back into the crowd front, a (not so) respectful distance away from the edge of the stage.

As the final chords fade out into the tepid night, you blink back tears of shock. While it is not unusual for you to be moved to weeping at a ShinShow gig, something about tonight feels markedly different. Is it just you, or were several of the members meeting your eye? Each song in the set saw a moment of charged intensity between either the drummer, the bassist, the lead singer, or the guitarist. In every instance, you flushed red-hot with disbelief, with wanton ecstasy at the thought that you were a passing object in their distracted, roaming gaze. The thought is enough to make you more than a little weak in the knees.

Shaking your head, you are forcibly evicted from your reverie when the house lights surge back to life. The show is over. The music is gone. The members have finally retreated backstage. Some audience members file out of the main exit, while others linger behind in naïve hopes of catching just one more glimpse.

What will you do?

➡ Loiter behind the venue.

➡ Sneak backstage.

#fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x y/n #choso x reader #choso x y/n #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fic #jjk series #jjk smut #my writing #mine #final girl banjjakz #final girl prologue

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libraryofgage · 2 months

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New fic!!

Welcome to the Final Girl Steve AU, where Steddie get together pre-canon, Steve is a horror fan that's genre-aware, and nobody dies on my watch

This is the first part of the series, and it's just Steddie fluff over the summer between their sophomore and junior year!

Summary:

“Yeah, but you’re entirely predictable. I mean, you’re a rich boy who’s good at sports and climbs the social ladder like it’s nothing. No way you like nerd stuff. You’re destined to be a douchebag, Harrington. The Munson Doctrine never lies.” As he speaks, Eddie can see Steve’s frown get deeper and his eyes get darker until he turns his head away and takes a shaky drag of the joint. He lets it out, still shaky, and seems to be gathering himself. Eddie is starting to brace for a punch or kick or something violent when Steve says, “You’re just as bad, then.” “What?” Steve takes another drag, his shoulders relaxing, and he looks at Eddie. “You’re no better, Munson. As much as you’d like to think otherwise, you’re also predictable. I mean, you’re a guy who feels like an outcast so he embraces the role and doesn’t bother to think he could ever be wrong about someone he’s never actually talked to before. Seems like you’re destined to be a douchebag, too.” For the first time in a long time, Eddie is speechless.

#steddie #steddie fic #ao3 steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #final girl steve #my writing

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lunarharp · 4 months

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pretty & cute witch men

#witch hat tag #orufrey #i'm not drawing as much or as well as i'd like to be doing. i'm trying to get through a comic i've been really wanting to do #but i'm just finding it so hard. disheartening. btw the 2nd one relates to some official art of qif wearing a dress like the girls #and the 4th one relates to how i've been drawing EXTREMELY SMALL for years. idk how to explain it but i always clicked 'fit to screen'#and so all my art EVER has looked bad when you zoom in bc it's already like size 1 zoomed in to the MAX pfhgguguhfpfhGHAHHHHH #i was so confused allll this time why brushes always look different for me than what they're supposed to #'wow this brush is so jaggedy..really rather jaggedy...calling it the Jagged Cai Special..bringing it out for those jaggedy moments..#really quite jaggedy i must say...' and it's literally not jaggedy #but now i have to get used to how all those brushes that i'd gotten used to indeed look how they're supposed to finally. Alarming #I have simply been working out absolutely everything by myself for years and that's why my technical progress is slow #ppl say my progress is fast and i certainly have improved much since i began doing all this but #like..it took me a year and half to start using a program where i could Colour In The Lines aka the..whatever it's called. whatever..#just on my lonely confused solemn journey to express gay love better than yesterday.. -_- *picks up my pack n continues through the snow*#btw thank you sm for people's kind words enjoying my narumitsu art & fic over the christmas & new year period <3

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demigod-of-the-agni · 5 months

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Local man, his two boyfriends and his two girlfriends buy TRANS ICON BLÅHAJ

#flash travasso hoarding all the blahajs seems so right to me. like ofc he would.#enby flash real..#stop i just realised flash and pavitr and hari are dressed up in traffic colours???? oh my god #traffic light boys + comic accurate outfit girls #faceless hari shouldn't scare me but it does. why does he look like this. im sorry baby boy #pavitr is holding two. yes. he's trans didn't you know? he told me himself #they're all trans why lie actually.#i want a blahaj so bad...... maybe when i get enough money i shall finally bring him home..........#pavitr prabhakar #spider man india #spider man #meera jain #gayatri singh #flash travasso #hari oberoi #atsv #across the spiderverse #artoftheagni #mythic mumbattan au #how fuckin funny would it be if pavitr got a blahaj for his birthday lol hahahaa. for the birthday fic. that would be so funny. haha. 👁️#coffee bean gang

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yesimwriting · 2 years

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Final Girl Masterlist

Main fic:

FInal Girl (Part 1)

FInal Girl (Part 2)

Final Girl (Part 3)

Final Girl (Part 4)

Final Girl (Part 5)

Final Girl (Part 6)

Final Girl (Part 7)

Final Girl (Part 8)

Final Girl (Part 9)

Final Girl (Part 10)

Separate drabbles/fics set in the Final Girl universe

*these fics can be read as stand alones, they just happen to be canon in the final girl universe/timeline (to request a fic in the final girl universe pls specify in your ask:))

First Impressions - how Billy and Stu decided that Y/n was going to be their final girl

Sick Day - Billy and Stu don’t get why they’re so antsy about the latest addition to their friend group being absent from school. Sure, they talk about her more than they talk about anyone else, but not seeing her for one day isn’t enough to justify panic, right? Guess that doesn’t matter, because they find a way to justify checking in anyways.

final girl asks with additional content can be found under the #finalgirlfic tag

#final girl fic #Stu Macher #stu macher x reader #Billy Loomis #billy loomis x reader #scream #Scream 1996 #scream imagine #scream x reader #3 am thoughts #ghostface x reader #Poly! Ghostface x Reader #poly!ghostface

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charliemwrites · 4 months

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Part 9 of Charmed Slasher Simon

(CW: this is all basically noncon. Like, yeah they had a “deal” but it’s not like it was agreed on in good faith ya know? Stay safe while reading, please, and let me know if this warning needs to be more descriptive)

You shake as Simon trails his fingers absently along your tummy, amused by the way it twitches, tickling and frightened in equal measures. So much he wants to do to you, but only so much you’ll be able to take for this first little triste.

Besides, though not long for this world, there’s only so much he wants that little worm to see of you.

“You ever spend so long fantasizing about something that when the moment finally comes, you’re just spoiled for options?” he muses aloud, pinching your nipples through your thin shirt. He can hear the high pitched noises trapped in the back of your throat, tsks at the denial.

“I’m usually a decisive man, you know that, sunshine. But all the things I want to do to you…”

You squirm when he pinches a bit harder, adding a little twist. He shuffles his knee between your thighs and pulls you back, making you grind against his thigh with every involuntary twitch and shudder.

“Could bruise this pretty ass for running out into the snow like that, reckless thing.” You jolt when he palms the plush fat of one cheek. “Or I could just torture your tight little hole. Leave that pretty pussy aching…”

You make a noise like a sob as his thumb rubs through the layers of your pants and underwear. You try to lean away but he’s got such a tight grip on your wrists that all it does is arch your back.

He inches his fingers over the crest of your hip again, dips back to your swollen clit and soaked cunt. Hell, you’re even wetter than before, a sticky line running down your thigh, fabric clinging to overheated skin. He groans against your throat, has to see it for himself.

You try to protest as he yanks your waistbands down to mid thigh, but he quiets you with those same two fingers stuff in your mouth, teeth scraping his knuckles. You nearly gag as he pets the back of your tongue, imagines how it’ll feel against the fat head of his cock.

In the firelight, you’re gleaming, something out of a fever dream. He leans you back farther and forces your legs wider with his own, lets the heat caress at the insides of your thighs, the creamy slick webbing between your lips.

“Fuck, maybe I should just play with this, huh?” He rasps. “Watched you do it so many times. You don’t know how to edge yourself properly, luv. Always let yourself give in too soon.”

You make a startled noise, huge, watery eyes finding his. He chuckles at the mortified question in them, teases his fingertips over your slit.

“Yeah, sunshine. I watched you fuck this pretty pussy, cryin’ ‘n pleadin’ for me,” he purrs in your ear. “Took everythin’ in me to let you have your fun, to keep from showin’ you how it’s done…”

He circles a finger over your clit, a barely-there brush that makes your pretty wet lashes flutter. Over and over, watches that flush bloom steadily over your face, down your neck. The haze glossing over your eyes.

“How about that, hm? We’ll start from the beginning and work our way through my list.”

He slips his fingers from your mouth, watches you lick unconsciously at the taste of him lingering on your lips.

“Y-you’re not gonna…?”

He tilts his head, narrows his eyes. Fills in the blanks and can’t help growling.

“Oh, you want me to hurt you, is that it?” he asks. “You want - no, you need an excuse to hate me. You’re hoping I tear you up so that you have an easy out for all these confusing feelings.”

You try to babble out a denial but the shock in your eyes is all the confirmation he needs. He tamps down his anger by dragging his teeth along your neck, working a dark mark into the skin.

You don’t know any better, he reminds himself. But you will.

“Don’t you worry, luv, there will be plenty of punishment for you,” he rumbles. “But you’re going to beg me for it.”

You open your mouth, maybe to deny it, but he pinches your sensitive little clit between two fingers and revels in the way you squeal.

He instantly soothes the ache with gentle circles, trailing kisses along your jaw. Tastes fresh salt on your skin.

“Best save your tears, precious,” he warns, smirking. “You’ll need them.”

He parts your lips with two fingers, leaving you open and exposed, groaning through his teeth at the sight of you. Wet and swollen, so needy for him. You try to buck away when he rubs a finger over your clit, firm strokes up and down.

“If you don’t stay still and take it like a good girl, I’ll tie you down and make you be a good girl.”

You duck your chin, eyes squeezed miserably shut as you try to lock down your body. It’s ridiculously endearing, how you wiggle and then catch yourself, breath hitching as you wait for him to lose patience. He hums whenever you start getting to squirmy, delights in the way you shiver and sink your teeth into your lip. Settle down only for him to change the tempo or the pattern and ruin all your self control.

He amuses himself drawing patterns all over your pulsing clit - circles and stars. Hearts that make your eyes roll back in your head. Zig zags from your weeping hole up to the very top of your slit.

It takes a while for you to truly approach your orgasm with the way he denies you a proper rhythm to build on. But he notices the moment you finally start to reach that peak, not even his reminder to hold still can keep you from twitching and rocking, helpless little jolts of your hips.

He coos. “So desperate to finish. Is it because you think I’ll be done with you once you do?”

You don’t answer, too busy trying to get more friction, more pressure. He lets you rush right up to the edge and then stops, skipping down to circle your hole. Luxuriates in the fresh flood of wetness coating your thighs. It yanks you back like a dog on a leash, your orgasm right there but just out of reach.

You don’t even seem to realize what’s happened for a second, mouth hanging open and a cute little furrow between your brow. When he chuckles, teasing up to that sensitive bundle of nerves again, it seems to click. You shoot him a dismayed look, the most precious hint of betrayal lurking in your glassy irises.

“N-no…” you nearly beg.

He smirks, nips at your puffy bottom lip. “You can say no if you like. Or even stop. We had a deal, though, didn’t we?”

“R-Riley…”

You scream when he spanks your pussy. Not nearly as hard as he craves, but it sends pretty streamers of tears down your hot cheeks. Another, two fingers directly to your clit. You nearly crumple, only his hold on your wrists keeping you upright.

“My real name, sunshine, or I’ll give you a reason to say no,” he warns.

“S-Simon,” you whimper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He shushes you, petting apologetically at your throbbing core.

“I know, luv, I know. But you’ll never learn if I don’t teach you right.”

The tears don’t stop as he drags you right up to the edge again, bullying through the lingering sting of getting spanked with overwhelming pleasure. When he pulls back a second time, you start up the “no’s” again, voice shattered into pathetic little pieces.

“That’s alright,” he murmurs, “say whatever you need to get you through, I won’t be mad.”

He gets you so so close once again, cock twitching against your ass as it grinds back against him. But he lightens his touch, not stopping but not letting you fall, easing the pressure up and up and up until even the slightest graze would break you.

Instead, he pulls away entirely to squeeze at the plush of your thighs and hips, cooing over the way they shake for him.

“Simon,” you sob, tucking into his chest. He slows his touches, watching you try to curl into him, chest burning with something bloodier than love. “Simon, please. It hurts.”

He hums, sliding his hand back up to your pussy, massaging your labia. Careful not to touch your needy clit.

“It hurts, hm?” he croons, unable to keep the mean pleasure from his voice. “It wasn’t supposed to. Where does it hurt?”

You hiccup, sniffle. “M-my… my…”

“Tell me, sunshine, or I can’t make it better.”

You fold a bit, bounce, almost like a tantrum. So out of control on sensation and emotion that you can’t keep it together as you form the words.

“M-my pussy. It — I need…”

He hums again, fingers trailing down to your hole. Teases his finger at your entrance and feels it spasming around nothing.

“So empty,” he breathes. “Is that it, luv? Your little cunt is aching to be filled?”

You shudder on a cry but nod, face hidden against his neck. He lets you, far too endeared by your attempts to find comfort from the man torturing you in the first place.

“Hurts,” you repeat.

“Do you hate me yet?” he mocks.

You keen softly. “Y-yes.”

A tap to your clit again. If you weren’t so strung out you’d probably even find it pleasurable but right now it makes you writhe and beg him to stop.

“Dont lie,” he warns, voice low, “where are my good girl’s manners?”

“‘M sorry,” you whine.

“One more time now - do you hate me yet?”

Your words seem to get caught up in your throat so you shake your head. Hes tempted - so, so tempted - to make you admit it aloud. But he doesn’t want to be too mean, not yet.

“Good girl,” he whispers, “that’s my girl. You want me to make you feel better now?”

You sniffle again, lean back into him a bit more. “Please.”

“There we go,” he praises, “nice and polite. I’ll take care of you, luv.”

Your body is so ready that it’s nothing for him to slide a finger into you, slick already running down his palm.

“N-no no,” you mumble.

“No what? I’m making you feel better.”

“‘S not — need more. Please, please, Simon.”

It’s hearing his real name in your small, reedy voice that finally appeals to what little mercy he has. He fits two fingers into your cunt and curves them to rub your silky walls.

“Fuck, you’re tight, sunshine,” he groans through his teeth. “You’re gonna choke my cock.”

You squeal as he starts rocking his hand, fucking you at an easy pace, getting you accustomed to the new stimulation. Starts building up your orgasm again, piece by moaning piece, finding every spot that makes your back bow with pleasure.

“Please, please, lemme cum this time Simon, I’ll be good, I promise.”

He huffs in amusement, caressing his thumb over your crossed wrists.

“Oh baby, you don’t have a choice.”

He flattens his palm against your core and pumps his fingers faster, harder. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit with each twitch of his wrist. You get tighter and tighter, voice pitching up and up, until your entire body goes taut, walls clamping down almost painfully.

He strokes you through it, brutal and relentless until you’re screaming at him to stop. That it’s too much. He releases your wrists to wrap his hand around your throat, obsessed with how delicate it feels in his palm. Just the slightest squeeze of his fingers and your eyes roll back. The second orgasm gushes from your abused cunt, all over his wrist and your thighs, dripping puddles onto the carpet.

He loosens his hold slowly, work you over through it, feeling you squeeze and pulse with aftershocks.

When he glances at your pretty, flushed, and tear-stained face, your eyes are shut. Out cold.

He chuckles and gently lays you out closer to the fire, grabs a pillow from a nearby chair to set under your head. Lingers for a moment, rubbing over your back, massaging gently at your shoulders. Your wrists are already bruising.

Then a muffled noise calls his attention.

Brandon.

“Now the second half of the deal.”

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #charmed slasher ghost #final girl reader #non con #dub con

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